I started throwing this together, and thought I'd toss it out there to see if it's worth developing, or if I should restart from a different place, or do something else entirely.
I'm Saoirse Kelly. If you follow boxing on Earth, you more than likely heard of me at some point—I was known as the female light heavyweight champ to a lot more people than knew me—back then—as a college student, physics major, witch, and more.
I never wanted to become a Fen. Sure, I like my Science Fiction, my Fantasy—but it's never been the be-all and end-all of my life. But—Handwaviuim fascinated me from the time I was a child. We didn't CALL it Handwavium, or Unobtanium; it was simply magic. See, I'm a Wiccan, as were my grandparents before me—long before Wicca had a name. (My parents weren't, but that's another story—one I probably won't tell.) I wasn't even supposed to know about it; it was passed down from one generation to another, and a 16 year old certainly shouldn't have known about it. But with my parents out of the sequence, Grandma decided to tell me the big secret when I was only 14.
Magical power back then didn't breed well, but had to be carefully brewed with rituals that are still secret. But that's not important—what is important is how I went from being a pretty ordinary college student—and darned good boxer with Olympic aspirations—to where I am now.
Back in 2007, to hear some say it, I'd been leaving a trail of dazed and unconscious opponents through the major amateur boxing tournaments, including the golden gloves. I was the national champion in my weight class—but amateur boxing seldom results in knockouts. (Though I DID leave more than a few face down on the canvas, despite the big gloves and headgear—without false modesty, I am good at what I do, and one of the hardest punchers in the woman's game.)
Sadly, Olympic Glory was not to be mine. By 2007, the IOC had ruled that women's boxing was not to be an Olympic sport that year; once again, discrimination was rearing its ugly head. Still, there were options. Starting college was definitely part of the plan—and perhaps turning pro was in the cards. So—to college I went, at the ripe old age of 16.
Times were changing in the good ol' USA. The freedoms we took for granted were fading fast. Surveillance cameras everywhere, people using plastic for every purchase, the records being sold to advertisers—and used by the Feds to track “suspicious” activities. Scientific inquiry was stifled, too; Handwavium studies in universities were prohibited, at least for undergraduates. Not only that, a friend of mine sniffed out that they were tracking any internet activity related to the stuff. That was bad enough—but they had planted some tracking software on my computer. Physics is my expertise, not computer funny business. All in all, that made my first choice of school: MIT—out of the question. I thought next of the University of Toronto—but it was a member of the Association of American Universities. Ultimately, I chose the University of Ottawa; they have some active research in Handwavium, and the traditional Canadian open-mindedness.
My undergrad years were interesting—but nothing that I plan to write about now. I had a generous scholarship, Grandma had a decent amount of money which she sent my way—and I did take up professional boxing. There's good training available both in Ottawa, and in Florida, and I was an up and coming boxer.
In this time of Handwavium exploding on the scene, and off the planet, people were studying hard science or Handwavium—not both. That seemed to me to be a bad plan; both are part of reality. So, I took my undergrad studies—and after I graduated in 2011, I almost didn't make it back to school. I'd been visiting my grandparents in Florida, and apparently, someone decided that I was a menace to the nice, controlled society that keeps exploration in the hands of the elite. Grandma, however, suspected something, and urged me to cut my break short. I crossed the border just before the order to hold me up.
There was no arrest order, nothing official; they didn't even invalidate my passport. I'd committed no official crimes—but the idea of Handwavium terrified them. Even more, the idea of someone skilled at both hard tech and Handwavium running around loose was even scarier. Sure, I was just starting as a grad student in a few months, but I'd already been noticed in the scientific community—and from there, the United States government.
But—at the same time, they were watching their step, being careful not to appear TOO heavy handed. (Or perhaps it was Grandma's connections with the ACLU that kept them from going too far…)
This is just the beginnings of a hastily thrown together idea, but before putting more into it, I thought I'd see if it was worth pursuing—or if I should take another route.
I'm Saoirse Kelly. If you follow boxing on Earth, you more than likely heard of me at some point—I was known as the female light heavyweight champ to a lot more people than knew me—back then—as a college student, physics major, witch, and more.
I never wanted to become a Fen. Sure, I like my Science Fiction, my Fantasy—but it's never been the be-all and end-all of my life. But—Handwaviuim fascinated me from the time I was a child. We didn't CALL it Handwavium, or Unobtanium; it was simply magic. See, I'm a Wiccan, as were my grandparents before me—long before Wicca had a name. (My parents weren't, but that's another story—one I probably won't tell.) I wasn't even supposed to know about it; it was passed down from one generation to another, and a 16 year old certainly shouldn't have known about it. But with my parents out of the sequence, Grandma decided to tell me the big secret when I was only 14.
Magical power back then didn't breed well, but had to be carefully brewed with rituals that are still secret. But that's not important—what is important is how I went from being a pretty ordinary college student—and darned good boxer with Olympic aspirations—to where I am now.
Back in 2007, to hear some say it, I'd been leaving a trail of dazed and unconscious opponents through the major amateur boxing tournaments, including the golden gloves. I was the national champion in my weight class—but amateur boxing seldom results in knockouts. (Though I DID leave more than a few face down on the canvas, despite the big gloves and headgear—without false modesty, I am good at what I do, and one of the hardest punchers in the woman's game.)
Sadly, Olympic Glory was not to be mine. By 2007, the IOC had ruled that women's boxing was not to be an Olympic sport that year; once again, discrimination was rearing its ugly head. Still, there were options. Starting college was definitely part of the plan—and perhaps turning pro was in the cards. So—to college I went, at the ripe old age of 16.
Times were changing in the good ol' USA. The freedoms we took for granted were fading fast. Surveillance cameras everywhere, people using plastic for every purchase, the records being sold to advertisers—and used by the Feds to track “suspicious” activities. Scientific inquiry was stifled, too; Handwavium studies in universities were prohibited, at least for undergraduates. Not only that, a friend of mine sniffed out that they were tracking any internet activity related to the stuff. That was bad enough—but they had planted some tracking software on my computer. Physics is my expertise, not computer funny business. All in all, that made my first choice of school: MIT—out of the question. I thought next of the University of Toronto—but it was a member of the Association of American Universities. Ultimately, I chose the University of Ottawa; they have some active research in Handwavium, and the traditional Canadian open-mindedness.
My undergrad years were interesting—but nothing that I plan to write about now. I had a generous scholarship, Grandma had a decent amount of money which she sent my way—and I did take up professional boxing. There's good training available both in Ottawa, and in Florida, and I was an up and coming boxer.
In this time of Handwavium exploding on the scene, and off the planet, people were studying hard science or Handwavium—not both. That seemed to me to be a bad plan; both are part of reality. So, I took my undergrad studies—and after I graduated in 2011, I almost didn't make it back to school. I'd been visiting my grandparents in Florida, and apparently, someone decided that I was a menace to the nice, controlled society that keeps exploration in the hands of the elite. Grandma, however, suspected something, and urged me to cut my break short. I crossed the border just before the order to hold me up.
There was no arrest order, nothing official; they didn't even invalidate my passport. I'd committed no official crimes—but the idea of Handwavium terrified them. Even more, the idea of someone skilled at both hard tech and Handwavium running around loose was even scarier. Sure, I was just starting as a grad student in a few months, but I'd already been noticed in the scientific community—and from there, the United States government.
But—at the same time, they were watching their step, being careful not to appear TOO heavy handed. (Or perhaps it was Grandma's connections with the ACLU that kept them from going too far…)
This is just the beginnings of a hastily thrown together idea, but before putting more into it, I thought I'd see if it was worth pursuing—or if I should take another route.